A Lesson in Life
by Zellarest
Summary: Victoire waits for her father to come home for work, before falling asleep. When she wakes, she remembers an important question. The answer is one she wasn't expecting. Because you don't spell love. You feel it. Written for the HPFC, dedicated to the life-saving Queen Marie of Poetry.


The air is still, quiet besides the gentle birdsong. Soft winds cause the thousands of fragile blades of greenest grass to waver, as though they are issuing a friendly hello in near perfect synchronisation. A girl of only five watches them as they do so, chin rested in her palm as though she is in deep thought. A curtain of silver-blond hair frames her face of fair freckles and pale blue eyes under lowering eyelids. Each time they are close to closing completely, something snaps her back to consciousness—whether it be a bird, a whistling wind, or wandering garden gnome.

It is here, on this dusty path, knee deep in grass, falling asleep in the dizzying warmth of the setting sun, that she waits. Waits for the approaching footfalls of the tall man with matching blue eyes and loud almost orange freckles splattered messily on his face like one of her mother's paintings, interrupted only by the jagged scar down the side of his cheek, framed by long hair the color of the sunset on her skin.

The orange is fading slowly into black, the rosy pinks and brilliant reds being replaced with dark blue and twinkling stars against the inky backdrop. Small clouds drift lazily across the darkening sky like leaves travelling down a mellow brook. With a last glimpse of the grass tickling her knees, her eyes close and she drifts off into nothingness.

Slowly she realizes her head is swimming as she is being shaken slightly. It is as though someone is nudging her repeatedly at an attempt to rouse her. She answers it with a weak groan that is similar to the pathetic roar of a bear cub.

Then there's a voice—deep like a vast ocean, but dull as though she is hearing it through glass. "Vic? Hellooo—Tor? Come on, get up sleepyhead." It is familiar as well, but she can't quite place it with any one person in such a state.

Her eyes open to the sight of green surrounding her almost completely. Her vision becomes less blurry as she adjusts to the surprising twilight, the individual blades of grass slowly coming into focus. With a shock as though she has been electrified, she realizes she had fallen sideways in her sleep. _In her sleep_. Without hesitation, she sits straight up, only to nearly collide with the large figure at her side.

They chuckle breathily, holding her shoulder to steady her. "Woah, kiddo! Slow down there. It's me,"

"Dad!" she exclaims, easily recognizing the breathy laugh—even in her groggy state.

The recognition is followed by a jolt of giddiness as their matching eyes meet. "I was waiting for you!" she explains, grinning madly.

Bill's smile turns down into a slight frown. "For me? You shouldn't have, I was held up at work for hours... no wonder you fell asleep, kiddo. Does mum know?" She nods, to which she receives a small smile. "All right then, shall we head home?" he inquires, holding out a hand to her.

With a grin she accepts it, and he lifts her up onto his shoulders. Without hesitation she knots her fingers into the orange hair, like that of her relatives—but so unlike her and her mother's. It never ceases to fascinate her, and Bill isn't picky about it. So she isn't either.

"So you waited for me all day?" he asks loftily, spinning around once as he walks, earning a giggle from Victoire.

"No," she trills, smiling toothily. "I visited Mrs Hamsworth—"

"Hentsworth," he corrects her softly, knowing she isn't listening.

Victoire continues without recognizing he had said anything at all, as per usual. "And then I caught a butterfly, but it flew away..." she trails off. Then she continues on, appearing as unperturbed as a five year old would be. "...since Mommy is always with Lulu, I like to go adventuring outside more." she explains simply, twirling a strand of sunset between her two fingers.

"Lulu...?" he questions with an air of confusion.

With a sigh, she laments flatly, "Louis," she mutters grouchily. "but I like Lulu better."

"You would," he remarks with his signature chuckle.

A silence occurs between them for a period of time in which Bill nearly trips over a stone while Victoire continues to play with the shaggy mane of hair literally at her fingertips. A moment passes in which she remembers something that had long since been forgotten.

"Daddy," she begins, allowing a few seconds to figure out how to word her question. "How do you spell love?"

Not a second passes before he says, "You don't spell love, you feel it."

Her nose crinkles like her mother's does after a particularly stressful evening with Lulu. "How do you know that?" she questions curiously.

Even without having to look at him she knows of the twinkle in his eye, the twitch of his lips in the start of a smile. "Let's just say I learned it someplace, and someday you'll learn it too."

At that moment, they both see the woman standing the the doorway at the same time; with her little blue smock tied at her side in a messy bow—covered in a white powder—with silvery hair pulled back from her heart-shaped face in an elegant braid, her mouth turned down in a frown.

"There you two are!" her mother calls, one hand on her hip and the other supporting a smiling Louis. "I have been waiting. I began to worry after ze sun went down."

"Little adventurer here was waiting too. Sorry." he caught her taut lips in an affectionate kiss, though it was brief.

"I begin to think you forget I much I love you." she remarks quietly, glaring at him sharply.

"I couldn't possibly forget, my love." he tells her, delivering a doting kiss to Louis's tiny pink nose and squeezing Victoire's hand soothingly. Louis giggles raucously, reaching his hand out to his father, while Victoire smiles at the sight.

Because you don't spell love, you feel it.

.,.,.,.,.,.

My first family fic—and it's so cute!

Written for the...

Snakes and Ladders Challenge and the 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Challenge!

With the help of the Prompt-Giving Wizard Challenge and the lovely Queen Marie of Poetry, of course.

Dedicated to Queen Marie of Poetry for inspiring me so. You are amazing, and I am forever in your debt.

Drop me a line and let me know what you think!

Word count without A/N: 1016

Update 6/13/13— I fixed a silly mistake that had been reoccurring throughout the story; I had spelled Victoire's name like Victorie. I am a silly duck. /shame


End file.
